


Legends of Nigh

by RubyFiamma



Category: Legends of Nigh, Original Work
Genre: Action, Alternate Universes, Dark Fantasy, Death, Developing Relationship, Fighting, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, Group Homes, Kissing, M/M, MMORPGs, Magic-Users, Male Slash, Mass Death, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Original Character(s), Original Works - Freeform, Past Child Abuse, Psychological Thriller, Role-Playing Game, Romance, Sparring, Suspense, Thriller, Violence, Virtual Reality, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-05-18 01:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5893477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyFiamma/pseuds/RubyFiamma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver Cole isn’t much of an adventurer let alone a people person but when there’s news of a Virtual Reality expansion release for the online MMORPG he plays, <i>Legends of Nigh</i>, Cole feels compelled to buy it out of fear of being left behind by other players in the game. Only this new expansion gives him more than he bargained for, and as it turns out, it might not even be a game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Book I: Down the Rabbithole

**Author's Note:**

> _An Original Fic_
> 
> Eventual graphic depictions of violence, child abuse and explicit content suited for a mature audience. May contain triggers, please read at your own risk.
> 
> _All places and persons in this story are of my own creation, all rights reserved. Please do not repost this story anywhere else without my permission._
> 
> [tumblr](http://rubyfiamma.tumblr.com/tagged/legends-of-nigh) [twitter](https://twitter.com/rubyfiamma_)

 

**I**

* * *

 

 

The line has already begun to form outside the electronics store across the street. Cole had thought he'd have an advantage since he left work four hours too early, making it 4:07 am by the time he had closed everything up and made his way through the deserted parking lot to the other side of the street, but he supposes he shouldn't have underestimated humanity's gluttony or their ability to freeze their asses off for no other reason to reaffirm his belief in the race's questionable sanity.

It isn't that long; Cole approximates about fifty to sixty people standing in the dark, lined up against the black walls and waiting for the store to open their doors. There's a cluster of hardcore fans at the front of the line, some dressed in costume and others sitting in parkas out front of camping tents with coolers stationed by their feet. Cole's not a hardcore fan. He hadn't planned on waiting in line for this stupid expansion but after seeing many other players comment on getting it, Cole had felt this sudden consternation of being left behind despite telling himself he didn't play the game for social benefit. There's only supposed to be two thousand copies distributed to each store across the city before the actual expansion's release a month from now, which is when Cole had intended on picking up the new software if it had looked interesting enough.

Now he adds to the sixty somewhat people eager to get their grubby hands on a copy of _Legends of Nigh:_   _Eitherlands_ which is rumoured to come with a new level cap of 101 and a new patch that will give the new expansion a virtual reality-like experience. Cole has never played a virtual reality game and if that part is true, then at least he can say his interest is piqued; if not for that then at least they get the new level cap. Cole is one level away from the current cap at level 89. 

In front of him are a group of noisy teenagers talking about all the different and dirty ways they can ensure themselves a copy, while two new additions join the line discussing the specs of VR gear that would be needed to play the game. Cole hadn't thought about the accessories he'd need to play this new expansion, so he opts for eavesdropping in on their conversation while he tries to forget the chill biting at his toes inside his worn and not very warm Doc Martens. The wind has started to burn his face and the tips of his ears; his breath giving way to icy plumes with each exhale. The long and jagged scar that splits vertically through his left brow is beginning to ache. It does that sometimes when the weather gets too cold and he forgets to wear a hat; he can feel the skin on either side shrivel and pull away from the fissure that lacks the extra layers of skin to accommodate what should be a naturally smooth and unnoticeable motion. To make him even more uncomfortable, the metal ring laced through his septum is sticking to his philtrum; an annoyance caused by the constant shift in temperature change between the heat of air breathed through his nose and the frigid cold of a February morning.  Leaning back against the cold brick of the electronics store, Cole tries to nestle further into his bomber jacket seeking warmth but the low cut of the collar does little to shield him from the blistering wind. Well at least -- he hopes -- he blends in with the miserable shade of plaster on the walls so that he'll remain unapproachable which will save him from the agonizing task of inessential socialisation. 

The store doesn't open for another two hours and Cole has to wonder if getting the game really worth the wait. 

The other side of the street is the small local grocery store he works at, stocking shelves. It isn't something to brag about, dropping out of high school before getting his diploma didn't exactly open doors for impressive careers but it isn't like Cole needs anyone's approval. As long as it pays the bills, it'll do. He works the midnight shift which comes with the added bonus of being the only employee in the building. That saves him the awkward and tiresome small chat as well other exasperating social interactions that are useless to someone who just doesn't give a shit about making friends.

The space looks eerie and ominous. There's not a single car in the lot, like it's been abandoned for decades. Near the far end of the store to the left is a street lamp flickering, like a giant moth continues to flutter blindly under the tainted orange glow. The trees in the backdrop sway violently in the wind, their branches looking like they're attempting to claw their way through the roof of the building. Then there's the building itself. Long horizontal windows that stretch the width of the building are shrouded in shadow, leaving the imagination to run away with theories of what horrors lurk in the dark; like looking into the eyes of a monster. Blackness lies beyond the automatic doors too; they're as wide as a mouth, gaping and ready swallow humanity whole while the row of chained and rusty shopping carts dividing the parking lot act as the slithering tongue reaching out for a teasing taste.

 A flattened Coke bottle skitters across the pavement. Sometimes Cole wonders if he should have continued seeing that therapist.

Sighing impatience, Cole checks the time on his watch. It's now 4:18. The last bus going home arrives at the bus stop in less than fifteen minutes. If he wants to leave, he should start heading out to now otherwise he'll be stuck here until the store opens and buses resume transit at 5:45. However as he thinks this, some kind of nonsensical fear starts gnawing away at his stomach and  he recalls the party members he occasionally joins on raids asking excitedly if he's going to be joining them in the new worlds. Guilt begins settling in his gut and suddenly Cole thinks his life is a very sad one if he's letting the imaginary disappointment of a bunch of strangers decide whether his balls shrivel up inside him to die from the cold or remain toasty warm inside his dank but homey basement apartment. 


	2. Book I: Down the Rabbit Hole

**II**

* * *

 

 

They started with letting ten people in the store at a time. 

The manager had explained to everyone lined up that it was first come, first serve and that everyone in line was to conduct themselves in an appropriate and mannerly fashion or they would find themselves being dragged away by two very large muscled men with SECURITY emblazoned in white on their black Kevlar vests. Laughable. Who'd need Kevlar vests surrounded by a bunch of nerds waiting for a video game. Then again, all things considered, Cole supposes him and the rest of the people standing in line looked like they had a couple of unpredictable screws loose. 

One of the guards had his head shaved and a black tribal tattoo disappearing into the folds of skin in the back of his head; razor thin line of facial hair framing his very angry looking face and was the biggest of the two. He looked as if he took steroids -- probably able to bench several hundreds pounds easy and that he reminded Cole of someone who belonged on that reality show about bounty hunters.  He decided this security guard would be named Sal. He looked like a Sal. 

The second man was shorter but only by a few inches and stockier. He didn't look like a body builder that took steroids like Sal did, but he was still really thick. Like he was just built that way; those types of men that spend all winter in the bush chopping down trees with their bare hands. Lumberjacks. His hair was a mass of frizzy brown fuzz as was his beard. He wasn't as intimidating as Sal was, so Cole decided he should be named Burly. Both of them stood with their legs spaced apart, combat boots planted to the pavement, and arms crossed over their chests. Neither of them were wearing jackets and they looked completely unfazed by the cold. Clearly one of the most moronic intimidation tactics Cole's ever seen but he supposes it has the ability of being effective.

One of the annoying teenagers in front of him had mumbled something derogatory to the group and it was followed by raucous laughter. Cole wished their tongues would freeze to the roofs of their mouths. Unfortunately today wasn't his lucky day. 

He did the math. There weren't more than about a hundred and fifty people lined up so he would be in the fifth or sixth group that got called into the store. Since there weren't very many stores that sold video games in his town, Cole assumed that this larger store would have the majority of the games distributed. He deduced roughly two hundred copies were likely in stock which meant he was sure to get the game and all this waiting in the cold with the most infuriating teenagers on the face of this planet beside him would not be for nothing.

Now it was just surviving until his turn. 

"Next ten!" the manager shouts. It's loud and clear command, carried over on the sharp edges of the wind that slice against Cole's cheeks. The teenagers are counted off as the final members of the next group to enter the store and Cole is glad he doesn't have to be in the store at the same time as them. It puts Cole at the front of the line, he can see inside the store now. Burly and Sal keep eyeing him down like they assume he's going to be someone who gives them a problem. Or maybe they're just staring because he looks like a giant loser standing here by himself at now six-thirty in the morning in the freezing cold waiting to get some stupid video game when he could be at home sleeping or getting ready for a day job. Whatever the reason, Cole avoids eye contact, shoves his hands deeper into his pockets and stares down at the tops of his boots.

"What do you think the worlds are going to be like?" he hears one of the guys behind him ask. Cole doesn't turn to see if the question was directed at him. He's managed to make it two hours without having to speak to anyone, he's only got about a half an hour longer to go.

"I don't know, I haven't seen any previews or trailers online anywhere. The developer's done a really great job of keeping a lid on things," the man's companion answers. Another social crisis adverted, and Cole can breathe easy.

"Yeah... Hey, but I heard that hacker guy 'The Illusionist' worked on the programming. That's gotta tell us something, right?"

The other guy scoffs. "That's bullshit. The Illusionist has been eluding the government for the last five years after he hacked into the city's smart grid and caused that really huge blackout. Cost the city billions of dollars in repairs and restitution fees."

Cole's only been in this town for two years. He didn't experience this 'blackout' but he's pretty sure he remembers hearing about 'The Illusionist' on television somewhere.  

"True. He created that Plague virus last year too, didn't he?" 

That's where Cole remembers the name from. There was an massive internet disruption caused by some hacker that called himself 'The Illusionist'. He managed to create a malware program that infected a website and anyone who visited that site contracted the virus. Then the virus was passed on to other sites via the infected visitors and so on. The way it spread was like a plague and it took several months for companies and websites and anti-virus programs to repair the damage. It had effected millions and millions of people across the country and had started to spread internationally before someone managed to stop it. Websites that carried personal information about finances, police, medical and adoption records, government statistics and revenue agencies were all effected and were essentially shut down for nearly a year. A time where the planet reverted back to an ancient scribe technique called 'writing a letter' with actual ink or lead . Truly amazing, the documents were sent by carrier mail, people did their banking in person, more jobs opened up and smart phones became nearly obsolete. Sadly, it didn't take society long to recover and with all this new highly efficient and self-relying technology coming out, Cole thinks society definitely came back with a vengeance.

"Yep," the friend confirms. "And they still haven't caught him. Don't know what he did it for either. No accounts or records or anything have been hacked into since and there hasn't been any activity on his end with any new viruses or whatever. It's like he's laying low until his fifteen minutes of fame blows over."

"No one's gonna forget that, man. He's gonna go down in history as the world's coolest or douchiest hacker. I personally think he's pretty amazing."

 _That's because you're an idiot,_ Cole thinks.

"Well if the rumours are true and he worked on this game, we're in for a fuckin' awesome ride."

"What kind of cod--"

The guys are interrupted by the sound of a commotion. Cole looks up to find Burly and Sal taking two of the teenagers out of the store with their hands zip-tied behind their backs.

"Let go, you fucker!" one of them shouts. He's walking awkwardly like he's just shit his pants but then Cole realises it's because they're riding so low that the waist is wrapped around the kid's thighs. Pretty soon his tiny whiteys will be exposed and he'll become the laughing stock of his peers if he isn't already.

"Next ten!" 

Cole diverts his attention back to the manager and shuffles into the store with the two 'Illusionist' fans following close behind him. Someone knocks into his shoulder as they rush past and anger temporarily ignites in his blood. It's a bit ridiculous but Cole can't stand to be touched -- can't stand to have anyone in his personal space, frankly. For now he tries to let it go, exhale deeply and scan the store for a display. It doesn't take long, the people that were behind him have crowded around a large sign reading, " _LEGENDS OF NIGH:_   _The New Expansion is Here Featuring A WHOLE NEW GAMING EXPERIENCE! Be the First to_ _Conquer all of Eitherlands and Become the LEGEND You Were Always Meant to Be!"_

The display is fairly ordinary, nothing that would catch the eye of a non-player other than 'the whole new gaming experience'. 

When Cole gets closer to the display, he can see colourful boxes in hues of blue and green and gold stacked on top of each other. Expansion packs aren't normally this big, and when he reaches out to grab a box he's surprised at the heavy weight of it. 

"Holy shit, this is so cool!" someone says beside him. They're looking at the box from a different angle and seeing something Cole is obviously not. He turns the box over in his hands and a glint of gold catches his eye. 

Through the clear plastic film of the box, Cole sees some sort of headpiece and his first thought is that it's the virtual reality equipment. His second thought is that they're the strangest thing he's ever seen in terms of video game accessories. They look like a hybrid of an antique mirror and equally antique aviation googles with authentic mirrored lenses. _Steampunk_ , Cole thinks, and rolls his eyes. 

"You look confused, buddy."

Cole looks up to see a store clerk standing in front of him expectantly. He's tanned and tall, blond hair and a brush cut with some ridiculous design etched through the fade, dressed in neatly pressed khakis and his crimson coloured store-issued golf tee tucked in to them wearing a smirk plastered to his flawless and chiseled face. Cole rolls his eyes.  _Isn't it a bit early for douchebags to be up and functioning?_

"No, I'm not confused," Cole mumbles. He is now highly irritated though.

"That's the virtual reality headgear they're selling with the game. And before you ask, no you can't play it without it."

"I wasn't going to ask."

"And no other virtual reality gear is compatible with the game. So like you can't just go and grab some cheap knock off version from the back of your cousin's delivery truck--"

" _What_?" 

"This right here is rumoured to have the best specs than anything else like it on the market," the sales clerk comments, tapping the plastic film. "In fact, there is _nothing_ like this on the market." He leans back and folds his arms over his chest and his all-knowing smirk twists even uglier. "You do know you need the base game, right? Bet your some low level noob --"

"Look man," Cole interjects with a heavy sigh. "I just want to buy the fucking game. I'm sure it has instructions and I'm perfectly capable of reading."

Before the guy can say anything else, Cole makes his way over to the line at the cashier. His heart is racing and anxiety is starting to twist angrily in his gut. He doesn't like confrontation yet irritation prickles under his skin and he can feel all the heat in his body now flooding his cheeks. He doesn't look back but he notices he's gripping the box a little too tightly when it starts to crumple and the film starts to snap.

"Sir?"

The line has cleared and it's his turn to pay. The female cashier is looking at him with puzzlement, possibly even wary. 

Cole doesn't say anything, he just sets the box on the counter and watches as she slides it away from him with caution. She scans it and when the price pops up on the screen Cole nearly loses his shit. Well, thankfully he doesn't need this week's paycheck for anything important. 

He pulls out his wallet and hands her his card. She scans it, he types in his data like a monotonous drone doing this for the millionth time and she hands him the receipt afterwards to complete the transaction. She doesn't ask if he wants it in a bag when he takes it off the counter. It's fine, he doesn't really need one. At this point he just wants to go home and sleep and forget the last three wasted hours of his life ever happened.

 


	3. Book I: Down the Rabbit Hole

**III**

* * *

 

 

The sun is glaring offensively over the mountain peaks in the far-off distance by the time Cole gets home.  The bus ride was long and uncomfortable; leftover irritation from the store confrontation stewing in his blood only to be reignited when the bus became packed with people either on their way to work or school and there was endless invasions of his personal space, not to mention all the staring.

By the time Cole gets off the bus, he's ready to blow but thankfully the walk through the familiar alley calms him. Most people are terrified to walk through this alley, for it's a long and dimly lit stretch of prostitution and drug use, ruled by pimps and drug dealers and gang members. Fortunately in the two years Cole has lived here, he's never had a problem with any of them save for the rare occasion one of the prostitutes tries to pick him up or the three break-ins he had when he first moved in. With bars installed onto his basement windows and the two-week paycheck he wasted to set up an alarm system however, no more robberies have taken place.

Now that it's morning, early morning at that, Cole's neighbourhood is quiet. There's a stray dog eating from a toppled over trash can, the mailman making his deliveries before activity starts to pick up, and the elderly cat lady that's always wandering around aimlessly snapping her fingers or whispering to herself. She always asks for a minute of Cole's time and the answer is always curt no; It makes him a giant asshole and he's quite aware of this, but he'd rather avoid all social interaction if possible. He does however, keep an eye out for any cats that would appear to be lost with the intention of maybe anonymously dropping it off on her doorstep one day if it means not having to see an animal suffer.

Thankfully the cat lady doesn't cross the street this morning to ask Cole to if he's seen her missing cats. He makes it to the dilapidated duplex he calls home and enters through the front door that's never locked. There he crosses the lobby and heads for the back stairwell that leads to the basement apartment. It smells of alcohol and stale urine and some other unpleasant smell that Cole would rather not figure out a name for. It's littered with trash and beer bottles and used condoms but he's never run into any trouble here. Maybe it's because of his job, because he gets home in the wee hours of the morning when everyone is too spent and wasted to be threatening. He finally makes it to his door and fumbles for his keys. He starts to panic when he realises they aren't in his jacket pocket but it quickly dissipates the second he remembers they're tucked away in the back pocket of his jeans.

The key slides through the keyhole with ease. When he turns the key, this time the slide and click of the locking mechanism doesn't make him inexplicably uneasy but instead holds a source of relief. He opens the door and slips inside his dark apartment. The familiar smell of dampness invades his nostrils; an unwelcoming smell any other time but the musty mold and mildew smell of the dank basement is far better than the rest of the building. It's home and it's his own and either way, he's some pride staked in that.

Cole doesn't bother to turn on any lights, the apartment is small enough that there isn't much space to cover and after two years of routine, the floor plan is pretty much imprinted on his mind. He steps down three stairs from the kitchen to the living room that still has no furniture in it — which works out in his favour when he's stumbling through the dark — and straight into his bedroom. There, Cole sets the box on top of his dresser and strips out of his jacket and tosses it on his futon before flicking on the overhead light.

It takes him a minute to adjust to the jaundice lighting and he stands there at the foot of his bed, staring at the box on his dresser. He's definitely curious with it's contents and if he weren't so agitated he might be a little more enticed to play. Right now he's having a hard enough time fighting the urge to shut the light back off, fall into his bed and let it swallow him up until tomorrow morning, even if sleep doesn’t come. Instead he reaches out and grabs the box off the dresser. Now that he's home and away from the world, Cole has the patience to actually _look_ at the strange packaging. He turns the box over in his hands upon inspection; it isn't a very large box but big enough that he needs both his hands to handle it and just as heavy. Approximately eleven inches by fifteen inches, the box supposedly holds the expansion disc and the strange Virtual Reality headset made for the game. The box itself looks like some rendition of Van Gogh's _The_ _Starry Night_ with an abstract castle shadowed in the foreground. It's tallest spire pierces a swirling ocean of robin egg's blue and gold. Wisps of white mark the soft white of clouds that seem to carry across the sky undisturbed.  Below that is a vast lush-green meadow that gives the illusion of going on forever along the horizon. In the background, just barely large enough to be seen, is a rusted sword impaled haphazardly at the crest of a grassy hill. Rested against it is what looks like a dingy and tattered stuffed white rabbit with a piece of it's ear missing as well as it's one of it's orange button eyes.

Cole shudders inexplicably and opens the box. He pulls out the game case first, sets the box on his dresser and proceeds to tear off the cellophane wrapper. The VR headset is calling out to his curiosity, but he wants to get the game started if he's going to inspect the new worlds before attempting sleep. He turns on his computer and waits for it to load everything, then inserts the disc and waits for the installation prompt. After he's gone through the necessary steps and the game is installing, Cole turns his attention back to the box. The headset is the most strangest thing he's seen in all of what he can remember of his lifetime. When he pulls it out of the box he's still surprised with how heavy the headset is considering technology has developed far smaller and lighter weighted apparatuses for things like this. Cole wonders just how comfortable it's going to be sitting on his face for hours at a time.

The area around the lenses of the headset is metal, not plastic, which explains why it's so heavy. It's designed, Cole assumes, to look like an antique mirror. The metal is gilded gold, ornate Florentine design with an ostentatious peak at the top center of the headset. It encases the lenses which are in the shape of ovals and a thick gold braided rope that’s adjustable to keep the device on the head. Satisfied, Cole sets the VR gear down on his desk and reaches further into the box. There’s a piece of rolled paper at the bottom that he pulls out. It’s aged to look like some antique scroll tied together with a blue string. Cole rolls his eyes as he tugs gently at the string, plops down on the edge of his futon and unrolls the paper so that he can read it.

 _Warning_ , it reads in black inked calligraphy, _Legends of Nigh: Eitherlands Expansion is best played in a well lit room with a vast open space. Do not play if you suffer from mental illness, epilepsy or any other form of ailment that may result in harm or trauma to yourself._ The list goes on with the terms of conditions and liabilities and so on, things Cole really isn’t interested in reading. The software has almost finished installing and all he has to do is set up the VR headset to the sensor bar and computer camera.

After setting everything up, Cole stares at the headset a while debating on whether or not he should check the game out now or wait until he's calmed down a little and has a much clearer head. He decides on welcoming the distraction, if only for a little while; it isn't like he'll be sleeping anytime soon. He reaches across his bed and drags the heavy apparatus off the dresser, runs his thumb over the metal in a final moment’s consideration before pulling on the rope to adjust it to fit his head. Once fitted to the size of his head, Cole can feel the full weight of it and when he opens his eyes he's welcomed with the original calming blue _Log In_ screen.  Underneath the log-in box reads in fine black print, _Please use your keyboard to enter your username and password._

Cole takes the headset off and looks to his computer where the identical log-in screen awaits him. He rolls his eyes, cursing himself for not catching on to the obvious fact that he should have done this first, and enters his username and password. It takes roughly thirty seconds for the game to load and then he's prompted with the same blue screen and a message that says, _Please put on the Legends of Nigh: Eitherlands headset if you wish to continue. If you wish to play without it, please use your mouse to click Start._

Cole debates on clicking _Start_ just to see what the game is like before entering the world of virtual reality but something tells him it isn't going to be the same thing. So with a groan of resignation, Cole pulls the equipment over his head and when he opens his eyes there's a different screen he's looking at rather than the one on the computer monitor. This one prompts him to reach out and touch a glowing orange orb in the center of open space that his naked eye can't see. He does what he's supposed to and can see his arm stretch out in front of him as he would normally without the goggles. When his fingers touch the ball of light he finds that under the luminescence, the surface is smooth and solid, like a marble. It's warm underneath his palm which is strange because he shouldn't be feeling any sensation at all. Cole quickly considers withdrawing his hand when a sense of foreboding settles heavily in his gut but before he can, the screen in front of him shimmers and the blue bleeds into soft orange as the orb seems to grow in size.

“ _Welcome,_ ‘ _ShadowHunter’,”_ says a voice that echoes between his ears yet it isn't coming from his bedroom. “ _\-- to the Realm of Eitherlands. I am the Guardian of the Looking Glass and your guide, Evynelle. Please abide by the following instructions.”_

A humanoid silhouette appears in front of him with several orange orbs at different connecting points on its body. There's one at the head, shoulders, elbows, stomach, knees and so on.

_“Touch each orb in correspondence to each point on your own body in sequence. Give each calibration a minimum of ten seconds to calculate before moving on to the next. The globe resonating the brightest is where you begin.”_

Cole observes that the orb at the center of the head appears to be glowing brighter than the rest of them.

“ _Do not turn off the power or remove the headset during calibration. This will take a few moments.”_

Cole reluctantly lifts his arm to touch the top of his head and the corresponding orb goes white and shatters like a supernova, almost blinding him in the process. He wonders for a moment if he did it correctly but the orbs on the shoulders begin to glow brighter and so he repeats the process, this time remembering to close his eyes each time he touches a body part.

When he's finished, the body shimmers out and he's suddenly staring at nothing but white open space. A loading bar appears at the bottom left corner of the field and the voice speaks once more.

_“Calculating proportions, please wait.”_

So Cole waits, with no idea how long he has to or what he's getting himself into. He feels strange but can't place why. Perhaps it’s just the experience of something new that’s making him feel unsure and uneasy so he brushes it off without further thought.

After waiting about five minutes or so, the loading bar reaches one hundred percent and the white space in front of him starts to pixelate. He reaches out in front of him and can once again see his arms through the mirrored goggles. When he looks down,  he realises he’s in a sitting position, like he is on his bed in real time, except there isn’t anything solid he’s sitting on in the game. His arms and legs begin to tingle, hot and uncomfortable as if his limbs have fallen asleep but when he tries to stand up to shake off the feeling, his vision though the lenses blur and oddly he feels the ground shift from underneath his feet. It’s such a strong and realistic sensation that Cole’s body wavers and he feels the edge of the wooden frame encasing the futon catch him at the back of his knees and then he’s falling. In reality, it should have been less than a second for him to feel the mattress break his fall, yet Cole keeps falling with no perception of his surroundings other than the continuous pixelating of the white screen until there’s nothing but blinding blue light. Cole can feel his heart racing and the adrenaline of the free fall rushing through his blood. His stomach swoops and it feels like there’s an intense and unseen gravitational force pulling him down into an abyss. He wants to yell or shout in panic, but doesn’t out of embarrassment despite there being no one around to hear.

He’s still falling at an accelerating and alarming pace through what now looks like a tunnel full of pulsing blue and purple light, like a vortex of some sort and it seems to stretch on for light-years. Cole’s chest is tight; it feels like there’s no air and that is lungs are about to explode. Knowing that he’s prone to anxiety attacks, he should have heeded the warning and not gone any further with the game; he’s not sure a heart attack at twenty three is how he wants to die.

Before Cole has a chance to grasp what’s happening, he lands hard on his back,  intense pain bolts through his spine and knocks the wind out of him. His head hits on the same hard surface, rendering him dizzy and blind to everything but pulsing stars of red and green in front of his eyes.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he chokes, the remaining air rushing out of his lungs.

He keeps looking through the goggles he assumes are still there but all he sees is a mass of colour pixelating into an image he can’t make out yet. He frantically searches his field of view for an _Options_ menu but sees nothing and decides to take the moment he’s been given to catch his breath. He sits up and tries to reach for the headset on his face when a sharp but sugary accented voice splits through his head.

 _“Action cancelled,”_ she says, her voice warbling as it travels across sound-waves through the wormhole. _“Removal of the Looking Glass headset without the proper log-out process will cause permanent damage to the Legends of Nigh: Eitherlands matrix. It may also result in severe trauma, disorientation and disruption to the user’s nervous system as we are now tethered. Proceed at your own risk.”_

Cole’s fingers reach out and touch his face where the headset should be but isn't. It's like that ghost limb syndrome because he can still feel the heavy weight on his face as if it were but there's nothing there. He panics, his hands feeling out his face and body frantically and everything _seems_ to be intact yet he's in a dark and unfamiliar place and the only thing that is able to get him out of here is missing. Cole's heart racing so fast that it aches along with his lungs desperately trying to fill with air long enough to sustain a breath that isn't shallow.

When Cole’s heart has steadied to a somewhat normal rhythm and he’s able to finally open his eyes, he sees that the image has completed rendering. It’s dark except for a soft orange flicker of light in the corner of the space. Cole squints, attempts to get to his feet and does so after a minute of shaky legs and tingling pain. The light is coming from a candle and he’s suddenly aware of a familiar smell; earthy and damp like his basement except this isn’t his basement. It’s somewhere underground. The single candle is placed on a saucer on a round table in the corner, it is the only piece of furniture in the room. Cole isn’t so sure he’d go as far as to call this space a _room._ More like a hole in a tunnel or something.

He can see clearly now, as clearly as the barely lit room allows and he stumbles over to the table where the candle sits and on the surface there’s an envelope propped up against a glass bottle that looks like some sort of beaker only fancier. Cole picks up the envelope and opens the wax seal to pull out the envelope’s contents. It’s a sheet of paper so thin that when Cole lifts it to the flame, the light shines through it revealing text written in fine calligraphy.  

_To gain new skills to defend against foe,_

_Down the hatch these pills must go_

_To reflect the you of reality,_

_Drink this tonic in sips of three_

_Any more and you'll be dead_

_Yet one must chose to move on ahead._

“What the fuck,” whispers Cole, looking around the table for the pills as he sets the paper down on the surface. He picks up the bottle and holds it to the light of the candle. The colour is yellow-y green and the viscosity reminds Cole of slime. He frowns in disdain and puts it back in its place as something shiny catches his eye. It’s coming from the other side of the candle. Cole reaches for it, picks it up and brings it into the light. It’s heavy and solid, it feels like there’s some sort of crest etched into it’s smooth and cool surface. Metal, maybe. When he gets it in front of the flame, he finds his observations validated. It’s a round, metal box with some sort of crest or coat of arms engraved on it. He slides his thumb over the design and figures it must have to do with the theme of the game in some way. He opens the box and there on dark, pillowed velvet are two orange capsules.

“To gain new skills to fight against foe _,_ ” Cole echoes, turning the box upside down so the pills slide off into the palm of his hand. He puts the box back on the table contemplates his choices. He isn't sure what it means exactly. “To reflect the you of reality.” He turns the pills over in his hand for a minute and then he gets it.

Cole hadn't put any thought into it at first, but when he looks down at himself, he's still dressed in the clothes he was wearing before starting the game, minus his jacket. His avatar, _Shadowhunter,_ is dressed in black and green with knee high leather boots, equipped with a back and thigh quivers, large ornate recurve bow and two hunting knives at his hips. Right now, he's Cole and he has no skills or gear that would help him fight enemies in the game. So he assumes that if he takes these pills, he'll be projected as his avatar rather than himself. If that's the case, he should be the same level as in the game and all the skills he's learned up to this point as well as all the items he's acquired should be available to him too.

But then he wonders how comfortable he'd be walking around in someone else's skin.

He eyes both options for a while before picking up the beaker that upon closer inspection looks more like an antique perfume bottle with slimy green liquid as it's contents. He tips forward hesitantly and smells the liquid but it has no odour, which he assumes means it has no taste either. He's tempted to taste it just to be sure but he heeds the warning on the slip of paper and places the bottle back on the table and places the cork inside the mouth. Afterwards, he shoves the bottle in his front pocket. Assuming he can carry things with him into this world, this potion might come in handy should he change his mind.

He stands there for what seems like hours weighing his options before deciding that logically it makes more sense to be prepared. So Cole works up enough spit to coat his tongue before tossing the orange capsules into his mouth. He forces them down his throat with a hard swallow.

He doesn't feel different right away. At first it's a tingle in his toes and in his fingertips. Next he gets lightheaded, his vision swims and the candle’s flame starts to flicker — except that it isn't. It’s Cole’s lids getting heavier and the struggle to keep them open. His body feels very light, like he’s made out of clouds. He wants to laugh, and he thinks for a second he might have been drugged except he’s not sure how that’d be possible. Nothing seems to make any sense yet it’s wildly hilarious to him.

“ _Warning._ ” It's the guide's voice, tinny and distant in his head. What was her name again?

“ _Warning_ ,” she repeats. “ _Objects inside the Looking Glass are more devious than they appear._ ”

And then Cole hits the ground.

 


End file.
